


Fade magic and glowing hands

by EagleHunter9



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkwardness, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Foreplay, Hand Jobs, Magic, Misunderstandings, Multiple Orgasms, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-10-13 00:43:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EagleHunter9/pseuds/EagleHunter9
Summary: There were many things Solas did not anticipate when he awoke from his slumber, on of them being that the Anchor would end up in the hands of a woman who wasn't even a mage.What he never even considered was how his magic would react when he came in the contact with the Anchor. It was a known fact that Fade magic had always been volatile, after all, but who would have thought that the magic in the Inquisitor's hand would send jolts of pleasure through his bones with every touch?The Dalish elf's openness about physical closeness didn't help matters at all, either.Or, the one where Solas gets awkward pleasure whenever the Inquisitor touches him with the Mark.(Based on a Kinkmeme prompt.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a response to this prompt here: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14614.html?thread=57770774#t57770774

"Solas!" Inquisitor Arianni Lavellan shouted over the roar of the battle. "Barrier on Varric!" 

The mage complied, but it was not enough to save the dwarf- not from so many demons. 

"Fenedhis." The Inquisitor bit out as she watched Varric being overwhelmed by Shades, while Cassandra struggled to hold three mages at bay at once. 

What started off as an easy battle against some apostates in the Hinterlands had taken a turn for the worst when the excess magic caused a Rift to open in the vicinity, trapping the Inquisitor and her companions between the mages and an assortment of demons. Now, they were struggling to keep their enemies at a distance while Arianni tried to close the damned tear in the Veil, without much luck.

"Inquisitor-" Cassandra started to say, and paused shortly only to deflect an incoming fireball with her shield. "-the dwarf is down." 

"Fenedhis lasa." The Inquisitor eloquently responded, before swinging her sword in a half-arch in order to finish off a Terror demon, and no sooner was the twisted spirit down that she sought Solas out with her dark eyes and instructed him to focus on helping Varric.

The mage gave a curt nod and started to cast a stronger barrier, and Lavellan brought her sword down hard into the shoulder of a charging Shade. The entity died quickly, weakened by the Static Cage Solas put up earlier. 

The ground shook as the Rift was weakened, and Arianni wasted no time in using the Mark to destabilise it further. It hurt as the magic pulsed out of her hand, and the elf swayed briefly on her feet, but it was worth it for the few moments that it bought them to get away from the demons.

With the remaining Shades and Demons briefly stunned, Cassandra managed to overpower the last two apostates still standing, and suddenly they stood a chance of winning the battle again. 

There were disadvantages to using the Mark, though, as Arianni too was briefly stunned by the sheer effort of controlling the foreign magic contained in her arm. The world slowed down and sped up all at once, and she was not truly in control of her body for a few painfully long seconds. 

When she shook off the shock of using the Mark, the first thing that caught her notice was a green shadow moving quickly towards Solas, running through the burnt grass behind him like a snake. The mage was too busy upholding the barriers around Varric and Cassandra, as well as fighting off the nearby Shades, and there was no way he would see the Terror demon coming before it got to him. 

Her pulse throbbed wildly in her throat as she realised what was about to happen, and she burst into a sprint towards the other elf with her sword held tightly in her grip, only to reach him just as the ground split open, and the demon pounced.

It all happened so fast, but she saw it all in slow-motion: the burst of green energy, the demon's long limbs as they moved to pierce Solas' back, her sword as it came down against them, her hand moving Solas out of the way by roughly clasping around his wrist and pulling him behind her… the way he drew so quickly away from her touch when he realised what was happening. 

She pushed the demon back with a few swings of her sword, and the two elves had a moment to breath and eye each other up wearily as the Terror readied itself for another attack. 

"Sorry." Arriani said, in a gruff, out-of-breath voice, though she was not in the least sorry to have saved his life. "I know you don't like being touched." The tension between them was palpable, raw; he obviously felt uncomfortable, and she was still so awkward around him.

He fixed her with that unreadable look he seemed to reserve only for her, and lifted his staff as he readied an offensive spell. "It's fine." Solas bit out, but he himself did not seem convinced, his voice a bit tight, a bit gruff, his face flushed from effort.

The Terror demon charged again and they did not speak more about it.

Nevertheless, her thoughts remained set on the warmth of his skin under her fingers for a long while, a familiar and painful longing in her chest.

But Solas did not like to be touched, and he especially did not like to be touched by her– he was not cruel, but he had made both those things abundantly clear in the past—, so she pushed it down, and then she pushed her sword deeper into the Terror demon's shoulder. 

Solas did not like to be touched, and she needed to respect that.

 

…

The first time she noticed Solas' aversion to touch, they were in the Hinterlands, exploring some elven ruins in search for an artefact that was supposedly going to help with the Rifts.

Arianni has only been with the Inquisition for a few weeks by that point, and she was still unsure of her place within their ranks —she went from spy to prisoner to Herald of Andraste in such a short space of time— or about what to make of the people around her.

That day was also the first time she saw veilfire, in all its magical glory. It was a lovely sight to behold: the green flames as they danced into the dark room, alive under a mage's touch for the first time in who knew how long. Not for the first time, she wished she had been born with magic like her sister, so she could explore the wonders of the world beyond the Veil instead of simply glimpse at them.

As if he could read her thoughts on her face, Solas smiled lightly and infused the brazier with more of his magic, until he shades of green flickered and changed beautifully. His eyes, too, glowed with the green of the veilfire, and for a brief moment Arianni found it hard to breath. 

"Neat trick, Chuckles, do you think you could teach me how to do it?" Varric's friendly voice snapped her out of it. 

Arianni tore her eyes away, embarrassment heating her neck as she realised she'd been staring, and in her rush to move on with things before everyone else noticed as well, she hastily reached for the torch in the rift-mage's grasp, her left hand on top of his. There was the slightest spark of electricity as their skin made contact, and her gaze snapped up just in time to see his reaction. 

His whole body tensed up, a look of surprise and discomfort crossing his face, and he snatched his hand away from her grip as if she'd caused him physical harm.

"We should make haste if we wish to reach the artefact before the appearance of another rift." He simply said, before she could open her mouth to respond. Clearly, he was uncomfortable with what just happened, and he did not want to even address it. 

Arianni told herself not to take offense. Solas was a private man, and she knew— from what her Keeper had told her and what she'd observed of the people in human societies— that not everyone was as open about physical contact as the people in her clan. 

To Lavellan, it seemed strange. She grew up accustomed to taps on the head and the warmth of her friends' hands in her own, with hunching together with her kin for warmth during winter and with her mother's fingers through her hair. Within her clan, touch was as much part of everyday interaction as speech, as easy as a smile, as comforting and natural as laughter. 

A big part of her mourned the loss of the easy affection and closeness that seemed to be so foreign to the people of Ferelden, and craved the freedom to be familiar with others in such a way again.

She knew it was a foolish thing to wish for, the thoughts of a woman longing for home; and she barely even knew the people that surrounded her, after all. 

They did not seem like bad people, though, and maybe, in time, they would no longer mind her strange, Dalish ways.

Her eyes shifted briefly towards Solas and she smiled awkwardly when the mage caught her looking.

Later, when he had to lit another torch for her because she'd lost hers while distracted by a Shade, he made sure not to touch her skin as he handed it over, and though Arianni expected it, she still felt a slight sting of disappointment at the gesture. 

She got over it fast, though; obviously, Solas treasured his personal space, and who was she to disrespect that?

Arianni vowed to be careful not to touch him without his permission in the future, and left it at that.

Or, she would have, except that he took her to the Fade one night not too long after that, and he offered to teach her Elvish, and he had the most expressive eyes and a voice like a gently flowing river. 

She couldn't quite tell when her respect for his magical skill and her awe at the knowledge he possessed of their people's history turned into a very different kind of admiration, but by the time they reached Skyhold she had the most persistent crush on the man. 

It was, again, embarrassing. Arianni Lavellan was a grown woman, one of the best hunters in her clan, and –most recently— the Inquisitor, yet she fidgeted like a young girl whenever he got within touching distance of her. 

The urge —to pat him on the shoulder when she wanted his attention, or to wrap her hands around his when he looked particularly sad— remained, but she kept herself in check.

It was not as easy as she would have liked it, though: he was unique, mysterious, and quite beautiful. Her mind kept wondering about the texture of his skin—his arms, his cheeks, his temples, but what about his chest, his broad shoulders? 

Creators help her, but she could not control her thoughts.

He had callous hands, warm hands. She knew that much because of the rare instances that he had to examine the strange mark in the middle of her palm. Even then, his touch was barely there. He did not linger; he did not hold her hand. He would allow his fingers to trace the skin lightly, his brows furrowed in concentration and an uncomfortable, tight smile on his lips. 

"Everything appears to be in order, Herald." He would say, and quickly let go of her hand. She'd thank him, her fingers twitching as if to reach for him again, the magic in her hand strongly jittery, and she would try not to be too bothered by the obvious relief that crossed his face as soon as she bid her leave. 

He thought of her as a friend, she was sure of it, but as the months past he only got increasingly more distant each time she touched him, and she could not figure out why. 

So, the small woman learned quickly to ignore the urge to smooth down the creases on his brow with her fingers whenever he frowned, and to swallow down the desire to kiss the corner of his mouth whenever he laughed. If keeping her physical distance from him was what he required of her if she wished his friendship, then she would gladly do it.

He did not seem to mind her company when she came to talk, after all, and they talked often. 

He spoke about the Fade, and the wonders he glimpsed behind the Veil; she spoke of her clan and the stories she'd gathered in her years as a hunter. They argued, naturally, but they also laughed, and Arianni found herself treasuring their time together dearly, her step always lighter after one of their conversations.

Her feelings might have been unrequited, but she thought that things were going well. She thought that they were making progress. 

Then, the Exalted Plains incident happened, and she realised just how wrong she had been. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed the start to this story. I have another maybe 8000 words written already, so I will be updating this fairly quickly in the next week or so, but expect slower updates after that. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

The Exalted Plains incident was…it was bad.

She should have been faster. She should have…she should have demanded they take the shorter route, even if it would have meant travelling with a smaller group of soldiers, yet she had allowed herself to be convinced by the Commander that the added security was needed and-

Arianni ended the line of thought there; wondering about should-haves was pointless, and she had no one else to blame but herself for having failed Solas so spectacularly. 

He had come to her in Skyhold to ask for her aid in order to help a dear friend, he had trusted her to do all she could in order to save them, and Arianni simply wasn't fast enough. 

They got there in time not to save his friend, but to put them to rest. By the time they found the trail of bodies, Wisdom has been twisted into Pride, corrupted irreparably. The Inquisitor supposed that she should have been surprised when the friend Solas had talked about turned out to be a spirit, yet she was not. 

As Solas cradled the flickering body of the dying spirit in his arm, Arianni had to tear her eyes away, too ashamed to face her failure. 

She dared not intervene as Solas dealt out his anger onto the mages, her tongue much too dry and heavy in her mouth for her to attempt to reason with him. 

Their screams did not invoke pity, nor did she mind the slight horror on her other companions' faces. 

That feeling of inadequacy she'd not fully experienced since the explosion at the Conclave threatened to engulf her fully as she sat and watched the desolate scene before them and the hedge-mage's bright fury. 

She found the energy to signal Varric and Blackwall away, and waited silently for Solas to move from his spot amidst the scorched earth. For the longest while, both of them sat perfectly still, and Arianni could do nothing but listen to the uneven tempo of his rasped breathing. Then, she summoned the courage to go to his side, and, hesitantly, she reached for his hand. 

As it was always the case when she touched him, that flicker of electricity ran through her body, but it was easily ignored under the weight of her remorse and anxiety. 

She felt the muscle of his back tense up like metal wires, and he pushed his shoulders back violently, instinctively, with something almost like a snarl reverberating from his chest and the back of his throat. 

She took her hand back with wide eyes and a soft gasp, and Solas turned on her with frightening speed and a strange and wild look in his eyes.

"Don't touch me-" He growled, his breathing still a bit too fast, a bit too shallow. "Don't ever touch me!" 

His frame shook— with anger, sadness, disgust? She couldn't tell. Solas looked at Arianni as if he could not stand the sight of her. Her heart shrunk into her chest as she realised that he might very well hate her in that moment. 

"Sol-" She tried to make out an apology, but her voice choked on his name, and before she could get a grip of herself, he pushed past her, shoulders shoving into hers, and he was gone. 

…

…

…

A few days later, Solas himself came and apologised for being so curt with her, but while she jumped at the chance to resume their friendship, she couldn't help but feel like the distance between them was even larger than before.

"Inquisitor." He greeted her when he approached her, a placid and polite smile on his face that did not reach his eyes. Not 'da'len', not 'Arianni', but 'Inquisitor'.

(He hated her- hated her. She made him hate her…)

She swallowed down her anxiety and straightened her back. "Solas, I am so-"

"There's no need for that." He cut her off. "I was out of line earlier. I- that is to say, I appreciate your effort, and your companionship. I hope things have not been irreparable changed between us and that we can put this behind us." The elf said, flicking careful eyes her way.

Arianni forced her dry throat to work and made her best to smile. "Yes, definitely. Solas, you just lost some dear and I- I was out of line as well. I'm so sorry-." She reached out instinctively, but her hand froze mid-air when she saw him flinch.

"I'm fine." He said softly, but she knew he wasn't.

Arianni bit down on her lower lip in order to beat down the words that wanted to spill out. "Right." She said, careful and slow. "Of course, I will-" Arianni hesitated, fidgeting in her spot. "I will be going then."

She told herself she should be glad; things could go back to normal, now. Still, she could not get the way he always seemed to react to her initiating physical contact out of her head.

She curled her fingers tightly into the hem of her shirt and walked away.

…

…

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but the next one should be up in a few days. Also, I'd like to thank Jimintomylife for being the first one to comment on this story! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you're enjoying this story so far.


	3. Chapter 3

So, that was how things were between them: Arianni made sure to respect his space, and Solas seemed to appreciate it. The joked, they argued, they laughed together, they spoke often; they just didn't touch. 

Well…Usually, that was.

Keeping her distance was not something that was always entirely within the Inquisitor's control. There was the fact that they fought side by side frequently, which involved the occasional need for a push or a pull of the literal sort in order to save each other's lives. The instance with the mages and the demons in the Hinterlands being the latest example of that.

Moreover, Solas was the only one who could help whenever the Mark behaved strangely.

She remembered one episode in particular, back when they were just starting their first expedition on the Storm Cost.

That night, the Mark had acted out and Lavellan woke screaming from her sleep.

"Solas-" She'd choked as someone came to check on her. "Bring Sola…s."

The elf had been by her side in moments, already on his way to see what the screaming was about, and as soon as he'd put her hands on her, she'd felt the immense pressure of the Mark's magic recessing.

She didn't know how he did it, but at that time she'd felt as if she could weep with relief.

What she also remembered quite clearly though, was what came after the pain faded, and she found herself with Solas hovering over her with a worried frown. As the Inquisitor blinked rapidly and tried to focus on the mage' face, her hand, the one with the Mark, had reached for his cheek almost on its own accord.

As soon as she made contact, the Anchor pulsed, aggressive and unexpected, and Arianni's hand fell away as she tried to breath, just breath. She wasn't sure, but for a moment then she thought Solas had shuddered with her when she touched him; both of their breathing was louder, more laborious, and he had a wild look in his eyes that looked appropriate to what she was feeling.

(He avoided her like the plague for the week following that.)

It was the first time Arianni considered the possibly that the Anchor's magic had something to do with Solas' adverse reactions when she touched him, that night.

Would it really be so strange to think that the Mark might try to hurt Solas? It tried to hurt her regularly, after all. 

...

Sometime later, she had tried to talk with Dorian about her suspicion, but there was not much the mage could tell her. He mentioned that it would not be completely farfetched to suggest that the foreign energy in her arm might react defensively to Solas' magic. They were messing with forces that they knew little about, after all, wild and powerful things. 

The idea that the Mark might soon make it too dangerous for Arianni to touch anyone made her throat close in on itself, and she looked at the Altus with worried eyes.

Tentatively, she'd asked Dorian for permission to try to see if the Mark would react to him as well, and while the Tevinter had a moment hesitation, he offered her his arm readily.

"Thank you, Dorian." She mouthed with a smile, and she placed her fingers carefully on the skin on the crook of his elbow. Just as carefully, magic flared dimly in his hands, under his skin.

"It doesn't seem to be doing anything." He said after a long moment of silence. "Are you sure you got this right? Maybe our resident Rift-mage simply is as antisocial as he seems."

Arianni bit down on her lip and turned her head away, her hand falling away from Dorian's arm.

"Now, there, Inquisitor-" Dorian rushed to say when he noticed the look on her face, his magic dispersing. "-no need to feel so upset about it. I'm sure he simply likes his personal space, it has nothing to do with you. You, my dear, are absolutely huggable."

The Inquisitor smiled softly at the man, and she wrapped her arms briefly around his middle. "Thank you." She said as she pulled away, and she caught Dorian roll his eyes at her as she did so. His lips, though, were curved into a smile, and she left the library in relatively good spirits.

…

There were many things Solas had failed to predict since he awoke to a world so different from his old one. His own weakness had been only one of them. Corypheus, another.

What had escaped him completely, though, was that the Anchor would end up attached to someone completely without magic, with barely any connection to the Fade and no idea how to control it. More than that, Solas could have never predicted what the Anchor would do to him once he touched its clueless vessel.

The very first time, back on the mountains, with Arianni still so confused and the magic —his magic, damn it— still not quite settled into her skin, he didn't feel it, not really. He'd grabbed the hand with the Mark and tried to see if its magic could still work even if the girl —small and unsure and staring at him with such big, brown eyes— had no idea how to tap into its powers.

(It did.)

He assumed that the tingles he felt as he touched the Anchor was just a result of his own nervous energy, but he supposed that was the moment when his magic recognised him.

Later, while he made sure that the Anchor did not kill Arianni, he had felt it again. A sort of static passing through his bones whenever he pressed him skin against her left palm, but it had been muted, quiet, barely anything worth any thought.

Later still though, weeks after Arianni woke up and the Inquisition was formed, she touched him with the Mark again, and Solas was not prepared for it.

He was not prepared for the jolt of familiar magic passing through her fingers into his skin, he was not prepared for the heat and pleasure it left in its tracks, and he certainly did not expect it to be so intense and-

He'd jolted, pulled himself away, but the damage was already done. Every nerve ending in his body ached as if he'd touched live, raw lyrium.

It took no more than a look at Arianni's face and it was obvious that she had no idea what she'd done to him, and how could she have known? She was clueless when it came to most magical matters, not even a mage, and the Mark's magic was more unpredictable than most. 

So, Solas bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and made a point of keeping a safe distance between himself and the so-called Herald of Andraste —he scoffed, humans and their ignorance— with his volatile magic residing in her body. 

The second time he came in contact with the Anchor —a simple, innocent brush of her fingers as they passed food around a campfire one late night—, Solas had expected it, but it wasn't enough to dull the sensation. Creators, was it not enough.

Electricity hummed pleasantly through his bones stronger then the last time, loosening his muscle and sending heat to his stomach, and he was lucky no one could see his face in the low light as he disguised a moan behind a cough.

It took a few more touches before he could safely conclude that this strange situation with the Anchor would only get worse as the Inquisitor —for a Dalish elf, Arianni was quite good at acquiring titles, he thought— grew more powerful and more confident in using the Mark's magic.

Every time she touched him, it was worse than before; every time, it was harder to think and he felt closer to madness.

It was a particular cruel type of torture, he could not help but think, made no easier by the fact that touch was so much a part of Arianni's way of being.

Solas saw the way her face fell, when he pulled away. She was a kind soul, and she cared for him, and he knew that the distance he imposed between them hurt her sometimes. 

It was for the best, he knew, but it was not easy, for the simple reason that Solas didn't truly want to stay away. Couldn't, really. Not when she shone so bright, so fierce, for reasons that had nothing to do with the Anchor's magic.

Perhaps the thing that caught The Dread Wolf by surprise most was not the Anchor's pull, but Arianni herself, with her quick smile and warm eyes and her insatiable thirst for knowledge—and her unexplainable ability to make him want for so many forbidden things. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter up! I hope you enjoyed the Solas POV, I'm never sure if I get him right. :) See you in a few days.


	4. Chapter 4

The upcoming Winter Ball meant that she shouldn't have had time to think too hard about the Mark, or Solas, or the Mark and Solas, for a while.

Still, she was pathetically in love with the other elf ( _no, no, no- not love, it was a crush, it was just a stupid crush and it would pass, and maybe if she said it enough times it would be true_ ), and not thinking about it was more difficult done than said.

"Inquisitor?" Dorian's voice as he entered the main command tent snapped her out her musing. They were in the Hinterlands again, tying up a few things before they needed to head for the Winter Palace. Arianni was supposed to be looking over they provisions list, but it seemed that she'd been caught into her own thoughts again. She cleared her throat and rose to meet her friend with a warm smile.

The Tevinter looked handsome as ever in the new armour she'd had made for him, and she walked over and brought her hand up to feel the new leather of his shoulder-piece, brushing her fingers over his shoulder absent-mindedly.

Dorian looked down at her with amusement in his eyes. He didn't mind the Inquisitor's need for physical contact much, which was probably one of the things she appreciated best about him (funny, how she really should value his magical proficiency, but she liked that he could stand a few pats on the back from her more). To be honest, Dorian found her little quirks quite endearing, in a way. 

"Do you like it?" She asked as she took her hand away, gesturing to the armour with a faint curiosity in her eyes.

"Oh, yes, it is very nice. It fits perfectly, too." The Altus' eyes sparkled mischievously. "It's a bit suspicious how well you know my measurements, really." He joked, and Arianni gave a small laugh.

"Tease." She called him out, which only made the mage give a small shrug and an even more exaggerated smirk.

"You wound me, Inquisitor…" He told her, the amusement in his tone never faltering. "No matter, though, this isn't what I needed to talk to you about."

"Oh?" The Inquisitor lifted a brow.

"Yes." The Altus enunciated promptly. "I'm afraid one of the scouts came back with information that they found a new Rift near the Redcliffe Farms. Apparently it's causing a bit of trouble in the area."

Arianni rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. "Of course it is." She said. "It's fine, we'll take care of it." She reassured him, only to notice an almost bashful expression on Dorian's face.

"What?" She blurted out, furrowing her brows.

"That was the other thing." Dorian started to say. " _We_ might not be able to. I've been meaning to ask if I might go back to Skyhold for a while." That nervousness that was so atypical to the necromancer flashed briefly over his handsome face again. "You see, the Iron Bull-"

Arianni cut him off with a wave of her hand and a smile.

"It's perfectly fine, Dorian." She told him, and meant it. "I can handle a tiny Rift without you this once. Go." She urged. "There will be plenty of demons for you to fight when you get back."

Dorian smiled and mock-bowed before her. "If the Inquisitor says so." He winked and straightened. "Don't do anything too exciting while I'm gone, will you?"

She laughed again. "No promises." She said, and noticed that Solas was standing at the entrance of the tent. He nodded shortly at the Tevinter as he passed by him, and Arianni waited for the elf to come closer and tell her what he wanted to speak about. 

"Another Rift?" Solas' lilted voice asked, and she ignored the urge to close the distance between them. 

"Yes, another one." She confirmed. "Near the farms."

The elf looked at her with a thoughtful look. "Did we not already close a Rift somewhere in that area a while back?" He asked, a small tilt to his head as he tried to recall.

"Yes." She confirmed again. "Months ago." 

He seemed to consider that for a moment. "I think we should take a look. I don't like the idea of another Rift opening so close to an area that you've already sealed."

The Inquisitor frowned, but didn't argue. If it was one thing he trusted Solas to know most about, it was the Fade, and if he was worried about this particular Rift, she would trust him.

"Right." She simply replied. "Let me get Sera and we can-"

He cut her off before she could say more. "I'd rather we go now. I'm sure the two of us are enough in order to safely take a look at this Rift. We don't need to try and close it today, but I would like to inspect the surrounding. Get a feel of what is going on." He said coolly. "And Sera might not be the best person for this task in any case." 

Arianni chewed quietly on her bottom lip as she considered this. He was right: the two of them should have no problem protecting each other if something came at them from the woods, and Sera would probably rather not go anywhere close to a rip in the Veil if she could help it.

Soon enough, she agreed to the plan, and she moved swiftly to grab her sword and shield. "Let's go, then."

Solas smiled and they went to ask scout Harding for the exact location of the Rift.

…

A few hours later, they found themselves in a trench somewhere in the forest east of Redcliff farms.

Arianni cursed as she strained her ears for the sound of approaching soldiers and kept her hand firmly on top of Solas' mouth to stop him from making any noises. His face has turned quite an interesting shade of red and she supposed he was angry (a small voice in the back of her head nudged her that maybe the Anchor was hurting him, but she promptly ignored it— he wasn't even using his magic, after all), but she didn't budge, keeping the both of them down and quiet as she waited. 

The Rift they've went to look at turned out to be the result of a group of Venatori mages playing with Rift magic, and though Arianni trusted Solas and herself to hold their own against whatever might come from behind the Veil, they were in not going to be able to handle the Venatori Spellbinders and their entourage of rogues and warriors as well. They've made that mistake once before, and they were not walking into such a mess again, especially since it was just two of them. 

So, she had pushed both Solas and herself into the trench before the Venatori had a chance to see them, but they needed to wait until the sentinels passed their hideout before they could try and retreat. Though he must have long since figured out what she was trying to do, Solas still continued to struggle against her hold, and Arianni allowed herself a brief moment of annoyance directed at the man.

She would admit that she'd reacted by instinct when she dragged —quite literally— the both of them in this situation, but the way Solas reacted one would think that she was trying to kill him.

The space they were in was rather narrow, no doubt created when one of the small streams coming from higher ground dried out, the earth at their back just tall enough to hide the shape of their bodies. Even though neither Arianni nor Solas were overly large (though Solas did have a most impressive stature for one of the People), getting the two of them together in there was a tight fit. The mage was flat on his back on the ground, legs slightly bend at the knee, with the Inquisitor splayed over him, her own limbs tangled awkwardly with his, one of her hand propped against the earth at her right and one pressed against Solas' mouth.

As the sound of footsteps closed in, Arianni tensed, and she felt more than she saw Solas freeze under her, his breath coming in long puffs through his nose. Had she been less distracted, she might have even noticed the resigned, almost pained look in his eyes before he closed them tight. 

They sat like that for a few painfully long moments, and when she did not hear the Venetori retreating right away Arianni worried that maybe the sound of their breathing was too loud.

Eventually, though, she heard their boots moving away, and she allowed herself to relax the muscled of her back and shoulders. Solas' hot breath tickled her palm and as the adrenaline of running into the Venatori receded she took notice of the fact that she could also feel the magic of the Mark moving restlessly under her skin. She looked down at her companion, shifted her hips in order to get into a sitting position, and felt heat creep to her face when he made a strangled noise behind her palm. 

She pushed down all the inappropriate thoughts that popped in her head — _really Arianni, you've probably just hit him somehow as you moved_ , she admonished herself— and allowed her hand to slid from his mouth and rest lightly on the middle of his chest for balance, just the tips of her fingers brushing the skin on top of his collar. 

She scanned their surrounding carefully for any hostile before she even tried to stand, all the while feeling Solas' heartbeat through the skin of his throat.

Once she was sure that they were safe, she mouthed an apology and, less gracefully that she would have liked, she stumbled to get off of him.

"You alright?" She asked as she offered him her hand to help him up. Concern came over her as she realised that he was indeed quite red in the face.

The Inquisitor frowned as she reconsidered the idea that the Anchor hurt Solas when it touched him; he looked ruffled, flushed. _'I bet he'd look much the same if only you could get him into your bed'_ — that tiny voice inside her head suggested, and Arianni immediately pushed the thought away.

"Fine." He bit out, and ignored her hand as he got up. Then, evasively, he said. "We should go." And Arianni agreed.

…

Later, she thought back on the look on his face, all red, the sounds he made when she moved in his lap, and the beginning of an idea started to form in the back of his mind.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter up! Thank you for the comments and for reading, guys! I have about two more chapters already written down and then I can make no promises about regular updates. So, enjoy this while it lasts!


	5. Chapter 5

The night of the Winter Ball was…eventful.

Arianni had never imagined that she would ever find herself inside the Winter Palace, but considering all she'd heard about it, she supposed she should have known it would be.

As it turned out, though, she managed to navigate through the mess of it quite well. Or at least she thought she did well, for a Dalish Hunter with no prior practice in the art of court intrigues and politics.

She saved the life of the Empress, exposed Florianne de Chalons for the snake that she was, and managed to force an end to the civil war by blackmailing the leaders of the three most powerful factions in Orlais into declaring a public truce.

It went better than expected, really; it made her cocky, and maybe that was what gave her to courage to approach Solas without the usual nervous tension she felt around him.

After accepting the Empress' gratitude for her intervention, and after Josephine assured her that everything had been sorted for the time being, the Inquisitor went to look for the elf, and found him on the balcony.

Truly, she welcomed the excuse to escape the ballroom. She felt like she would suffocate if she had to spend one moment more inside that sea of eyes and whispers, and she was more grateful than ever that Josephine and Leliana hadn't forced her into one of those ridiculous dresses, with their puffy sleeves and feathers. Creators only knew how more difficult that would have made things.

"Has the Inquisitor tired of the festivities already?" Solas said as a greeting when he noticed her approach, a faint smile tugging at his full lips.

Pulling her fingers free from her fine leather gloves, now sticky with sweat and blood, Arianni smiled and leaned against the stone railing, her back to the gardens below.

"Thoughts?" He asked in a pleasant voice.

"I'm just glad it's over." Arianni answered honestly. Then, with a half-smile: "You, though, seem to have enjoyed yourself."

Solas chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest but managing to send tingles down the Inquisitor's spine. 

"True." He said with a half-smile of his own. "It has proven an…interesting night."

On the darkened balcony, the silver pupils of his eyes seemed to draw in all light and reflect it back at her, and Arianni swallowed instinctively as the memory of him saying _'I do adore the heady blend of power, danger and sex that permeates these events'._

Creators, the way his tongue had rolled over the words; just thinking back on it made her feel uncomfortably hot under the collar. She swallowed once again, hoped against hope that the mage had not sensed the direction her thoughts had taken, and pushed herself away from the railing.

Solas remained facing the gardens down below, but she caught him glance at her from the corner of his eye. Behind them, the orchestra started paying a new song, lively and light, and Arianni found herself extending her hand before she could think better of it.

"Care to join me for a dance?" She asked, praying to Mythal that her voice did not sound as breathless as she thought it did. "It would be such a shame to have come all this way and not join in for at least one song."

For a long moment, he actually looked as if he was considering the offer, and Arianni felt herself hope.

"I suppose it would be a shame." He said, eventually, and her pulse sped up just a little as he pulled himself away from the stone railing and turned to face her. 

Carefully, tentatively, (almost as if he was bracing for a blow) Solas stepped closer and he pressed the gloved fingers of his left hand to the naked ones of her right one. Her left hand went to rest on his shoulder pad, and when he said nothing in protest, she dared let herself relax and look up to his face.

"Shall we begin?" He asked, his voice a rumble she could feel in her bones, low and hushed like a secret. And they moved.

His reluctance to touch her was still there, she could feel it in the way the hand on her middle barely put any pressure on her flesh, in the way he only pressed the tip of his fingers to hers, in the tension in his shoulders under her hand.

Still, they danced. 

Arianni flushed the whole time.

She blamed it on the wine, on exhaustion, on the chill of the night; just as easily though, she could have blamed it on his handsome face.

As the band came to the end of the song, the Inquisitor could not help but let out the whisper of a sigh pass her lips, sad and dreamy. The movement of their bodies stopped with the music, but Solas didn't step away right away, and Arianni allowed herself to hope again.

"Thank you...For the dance." The words rushed out without her permission, and as her eyes looked up to meet his fully, the hand on his shoulder moved up as well.

Was she less caught up in how close he was, she might have thought better of it, but as it was, she couldn't stop herself from reaching out.

Arianni smiled, pushed herself up on her toes, meant to kiss his cheek. The thumb of her left finger brushed against the exposed skin of his neck and her lips parted and-

Green magic spark from her fingers and into the length of his throat, and she felt his whole frame shake. Wide-eyed, Arianni froze, and something between a gasp and a moan fell from Solas' lips.

_(But that…that was not the reaction of someone in pain. Those were not the type of sounds he would make if he were in pain, were they?)_

The next moment, he pulled back with enough force to make the woman stumble on her feet, his breathing harsh, his eyes wild and wide.

The Inquisitor straightened, unsure and unsteady, and she opened her mouth to apologise ( _she wasn't sure what for, but the need was there—_ ), but the look in Solas' eyes made her throat close up, and the words never came. 

It was hard to describe the way he looked at her; there was something heated and hungry and desperate she'd need expected to see directed at her.

She blinked, and it was gone.

"I need to go." He said, and his voice shook with— not with _pain_ , she was sure. Creators, but did that mean that she'd had it wrong the whole time, did it mean that the Anchor—

She was too distracted by her own thoughts to do anything but stare as he moved past her and disappeared into the ballroom. 

…

There was no chance for her to speak with him again as they started the journey back to Skyhold, but at night their dance played behind her eyelids. The look in his eyes chased away her sleep.

The idea cemented and morphed into a hypothesis, and her fingers itched to put it to the test.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So, one more chapter posted! I have one more (already written) chapter left, and considering I've not actually made much progress writing anything new for this story the past weeks, I'm starting to reconsider how good of an idea it was to put this story up before I finished it._
> 
> _Well, too late for that now. I'll probably leave you guys waiting for a while after Easter._
> 
>  
> 
> _Remember, though, comments inspire me to write more, so don't be shy!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So, I was going to post this chapter tomorrow or the day after that, but what the heck, you guys left so many nice comment for the last one, and it's Easter. Enjoy!_

…

As soon as things were settled back in Skyhold —there were many things to tie up after such a big event as the Winter Ball—, she went to the atrium.

Solas wasn't in his usual place, the rotunda empty and silent, but the smell of fresh pain was in the air, and Arianni allowed herself to admire his latest work for a few moments. It had been three whole days since she'd seen even a glimpse of him, but she didn't allow herself to feel too disappointed about it.

She wasn't there to see him, anyway. Not today. Not yet.

"Inquisitor!" A voice called out from the library upstairs, and she managed a smile as she looked up to see Dorian's face.  
"Hello Dorian." She said simply, and started going to the stairs; she wondered briefly about what her clan would think of the fact that she was such close friends with a Tevinter mage.

Some of the recent tension she'd been under must have shown on her face, since Dorian looked briefly worried for her. "Is something wrong, Inquisitor?"

She, of course, had sought him out in order to talk to him about the Anchor again —about Solas—, but for a moment, Arianni considered pretending she was fine, that she'd just dropped by to check on him, but-

But.

Well, she had questions again, questions that she couldn't ignore no matter how much she tried, and she trusted Dorian with them. If there was anyone she could talk about it with, if there was anyone who would not judge too quickly, it was the Altus.

Mythal, he already knew how much she cared for Solas; the last discussion they've had about her worries that the Anchor was hurting the other elf was more than telling, after all.

So, she swallowed her nerves and spoke. "Can I ask you something?" She said in a rush. "About the Anchor?"

Dorian first lifted a brow, then offered an easy smile. "What is it this time?" He said, with more patience than she expected.

It helped settled her nerves, but she couldn't help but fidget slightly with her hands as she told him: "You said that it's possible for magic to react to someone, or to someone's magic but-" She averted her eyes. "-does it always have to be painful? Could it…can it be pleasurable, instead?"

For a few seconds, there was silence, and Arianni didn't look up to see what expression took hold on her friend's face. Then, he laughed, startling her into looking up. 

"Oh dear…" Dorian mouthed between breaths, struggling and failing to quiet down his laughter, and Arianni felt stupid to have asked. She opened her mouth to take the question back, embarrassed.

"Right, sorry, silly question." She muttered, blushing slightly as realised how absurd it was to entertain the idea in the first place. What had she been thinking, really? That just because she thought she saw something in Solas' eyes for a second it meant that the shocks of magic going out of her arm were actually pleasant?

That the Anchor could- No, no, she was being ridiculous. Still, the image of Solas squirming under her touch, eyes dark and wide and hungry, sprung into her head again, and it did not help with the rush of blood to her face.

She looked at the Tevinter, ready to make her excuse and leave, but Dorian interrupted before she could.

"Give me a moment." He said, his laugh having died down but his smile still very noticeable, and Arianni felt her face getting hotter. "It is very much possible, Inquisitor." He gave a sly smile. "I mean, I've certainly used magic in the bedroom before, with devastating effect."

The Inquisitor spattered, unable to respond, and then: "Wh-hat? You- I mean- really?"

Dorian chuckled. "Now, now, let's not get into details." He said, and she was positive that her face was going to stay red for the rest of her life. "But let's just say that magic can be very versatile."

Arianni stared at the man. "Oh." She said, rather weakly.

Dorian took one last deep breath and seemed to finally compose himself, but the laughter in his eyes remained.

"That would explain a lot, actually. I should have seen it sooner with the way the elf gets around you."

She frowned, opened her mouth to ask of clarifications. "What do you mean?"

"Remember that last trip to the Exalted Plains? Solas went down and you tore a path through those Shades like a woman possessed to get to him." There was a glint in the man's eyes, and Arianni couldn't help but direct her gaze towards the wall and away from her companion's face. "I swear I never saw the elf's face as red as when you pulled him to his feet."

"He'd taken quite a beating, Dorian." She argued, still not meeting his eyes. "Of course he was a bit out of it at the time!"

The mage chuckled. "It wasn't the only time he got all flustered and distant after the two of you got a bit too close, though, was it?" He pointed put. "I should have known that it would be actual Fade magic that would make mister _I-know-more-about-the-Fade-than-anyone_ hot under the collar."

Arianni looked at Dorian with helpless, wide eyes and that might-as-well-be-permanent-by-now blush on her face, and couldn't help but get a bit hot under the collar herself as the sounds Solas had made when she last touched him rang into her mind.

Dorian laughed again at how flustered she was, but it was not a mean laugh. "Well, it seems that Fade magic and glowing hands just happen to work your man up. I propose you make the best of it."

…

A few days later, she finally mustered up the courage to summon Solas to her chambers. She left word for him as she started her day that she would see him there after lunch, not daring to be as bold to invite him to her private rooms in the evening, even though it would have worked better with her schedule.

It would not do to have all of Skyhold speculate about who she retired to bed with —though Arianni was not sure Solas would end up agreeing to spend the night if she extended the invitation anyway, no matter her own intentions—, and she didn't want to make Solas uncomfortable in case he really did not care for her in that way, either. 

No, meeting during the day was better. Safer. And there was no postponing talking with the mage any longer. They really did need to clear up whatever was going on between them, after all. He was a valuable companion in their fight against Corypheus and invaluable in dealing with the Breach. They could not go on avoiding each other forever.

There was still a big chance that she'd misinterpreted how the Anchor really affected Solas, which was something she was prepared to deal with. Of course, her fingers still prickled with nervous energy at the thought that maybe she did read his reactions to the magic in her arm accurately, but she knew there was also always the possibility that Solas wanted nothing to do with it even if that was the case.

Even if her touch inflicted pleasure and not pain, she would not be so cruel as to use it against him if he didn't want her to. She was certain. Well…mostly so.

There was no denying that the idea of turning Solas —the master of control and coolness— into a hormonal mess under her hands made her skin feel suddenly hot. 

Either way, regardless of what the Anchor did or not do, or what Solas did or not feel for her, they needed to clean the air. Get over this awkwardness between them. She needed to know what to expect when she touched him, and she wanted to know if her advances were welcomed. 

If Arianni simply did not appeal to him that way, she could deal with that too.

There was a knock on the door, and the Inquisitor turned in her seat, fingers absentmindedly pushing away the reports she'd been staring at while she waited. She could not remember a word she'd read.

"Inquisitor?" A lilted voice called from behind the wood of her door, and Arianni swallowed down the mess of emotions running rampant under her skin and prompted her visitor to enter. 

He stepped soundlessly inside, unreasonably handsome in his plain, long shirt and simple, soft-leather breeches, and Arianni felt her mouth go a bit dry. She'd forgotten how very distracting the sight of him was.

Pushing the thought away and firmly ignoring the tingle of magic she could feel go through her arm, she pushing herself up from her chair and turned to face him fully. It was time they talked. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Next chapter, the gloves are coming off! (yes, I know, I said I wouldn't make jokes any more, but I couldn't help myself)_
> 
> _Once again, thank you everyone for the comments and support!_
> 
> _Keep it up and I might not be able to help myself from posting next chapter early as well. *laughs*_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Yup, another update. Couldn't help myself, too many nice comments. You guys are awesome, by the way!_
> 
> _Eh, on another hand, the chapter after this one is still a work in progress, and has been so for a while now, so I might not update until next week, and that is if we're lucky ( please don't hate me! ). _
> 
> _Comments tend to make me both happy and guilty enough to write faster, though, so feel free to try and give me a nudge via a comment if I disappear for too long!_

His expression was calm, collected; if he still felt any discomfort because of their last interaction, he didn’t show it on his face. His posture, though, was guarded and weary, and that let Arianni know that the tension in the room was not only her doing.

She smiled briefly, trying to put him at ease, and took a few steps forward, getting close enough to have a conversation, but still keeping a respectable distance between the two of them. “I think there are a few things we need to discuss, Solas.” She finally said, her tone serious but carefully neutral.

Solas nodded easily and shifted his weight slightly to the left, his eyes appraising her silently. “Of course.” He said smoothly. “What is this about?” 

The Inquisitor pushed her shoulders back and clapped her hands loosely together in front of her. “The Anchor.” She said, boldly making eye contact. “And what it does when it touches you.”

Were she not watching him so closely, she might have missed the way his brow tensed and his throat worked quickly to swallow.

“Inquisitor-”

“I already spoke with Dorian.” She cut him off with a hint of a frown, not letting him speak just yet. “So I know there are many ways in which the Mark’s energy might react to outside magic. I don’t know why, or how-” She felt the fingers of her left hand twitch and ignored the buzzing of energy pulsing though her arm that had become so familiar over the months. “-but I know that for some reason it’s reacting to you and your magic, and we need to address it.”

The mage tore his gaze away, and for the first time she could remember, he didn’t seem to have a response ready.

“You went to Dorian about this. And what has the Altus told you?” He eventually said, with a hint of steel in his voice he usually reserved for when he talked about certain Dalish traditions he found distasteful. “The Anchor’s magic is old and volatile and deeply rooted into the Fade, and I would not dare guess the sort of insight _Dorian_ might have offered you in regards to its workings.” He finished coldly.

Arianni blinked, taken aback by the hostility behind his words. The corners of her mouth curled fully into a frown. “He told me it’s possible for the Anchor to react aggressively to some types of magic, and I think we can clearly say it does so when yours is involved!” She shook her head, fisted her hands and brought them to her side. “It’s not… The reason I went to Dorian was because I wasn’t sure I wasn’t imagining it, and I didn’t want to waste your time if I was.” She breathed deeply though her nose to steady herself. “But I’m not imagining it! The Anchor clearly does something, if what happened at the Winter Ball is anything to go by. It does something to you!”

Solas looked at her tersely, his full lips pulled into a flat line, and it became obvious that he was not in the mood to be forthcoming.

Arianni held on to her growing annoyance and frustration and moved one step closer. “Does it hurt?” She asked bluntly. “Is that it?”

Her suggestion made Solas furrow his brows, and he looked briefly surprised. “That isn’t- You think that I suffer pain when you touch me?”

Arianni refrained from nervously chewing down on her bottom lip and nodded once. “What else am I to think?” She shot back. “You cannot deny that you have always went to great lengths to avoid me, as if you were protecting yourself.” To illustrate, she lifted her arm, showing him the palm of her left hand, with the faint mark of magic running bright down the middle of it. He took a weary step back, as if she’d threatened him, and Arianni felt something tighten in her chest.

Clearing her face of all expression, she put her hand behind her back, fingers closed into a fist. “Look-” She started, almost a plead. “I’m not- I’m really not trying to make this awkward for either of us, but there’s clearly something happening when the Anchor get close to you, and I need to understand it as best as I can. I would rather there is trust between us, and you talk to me about it, but...” She paused to offer a thin smile. “I will accept your word that this will not cause problems in the field, and keep my distance, if that is what you wish. We need to be able to work together, if nothing else.”

Solas’ gaze softened at her words, and he looked conflicted for a brief moment. Eventually, though, he seemed to come to a decision.

“It’s not painful.” He said, reluctantly. “It is…overwhelming, though. The Anchor’s energy seems to seek out mine whenever we are in proximity.”

Arianni flexed her hand behind her back and furrowed her brows together as she absorbed his words. “Not painful.” She repeated. “What does it feel like, then?”

Solas frowned and shifted his weight again. “Is that truly important?” He asked in turn. “I do believe this should not pose a problem as long as the Mark does not come in direct contact with my skin. If not, I would have informed you of this earlier.” 

Arianni tilted her head slightly to the right, a thought occurring to her. “Why didn’t you, though?”

“Pardon?” It was difficult to decipher the emotions in his stormy grey eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me that the Anchor was acting strange around you before?”

Solas offered her a cool smile. “As I said, it did not seem worth mentioning. It would not do to worry you about the Anchor’s magic without reason.” He explained, but he seemed somehow uncomfortable with the topic.

Arianni didn’t believe him. “You’re hiding something.” She blurted out, before she could think better of it, and a crease appeared between Solas’ brows, surprise shining through his eyes.

She took another step closer, and he was too distracted to step back. ”Tell me what it feels like.” She demanded, emboldened, and —before she could talk herself out of it— she brought her left hand up to cup his cheek.

There was an instantaneous reaction; a spark of green magic on contact, like before. Arianni watched, fascinated, as it seemed to sneak under the mage’s skin, and felt it warm the flesh under her palm.

Solas shuddered, his full lips parted as he exhaled sharply and his pupils grew to engulf the greyish-blues of his eyes. His reaction pulled her in closer, and she pressed forward, her fingers caressing the contour of his right cheek, the soft skin just behind his ear, the line of his jaw. Quick, light, curious touches that seemed to make his breath catch in his throat. 

He swallowed, his eyes shut tightly, as she first pressed her thumb softly against his slightly chapped bottom lip, and then allowed herself to trace the intriguing dip in his chin.

He made a strangled sound from somewhere deep in his throat and Arianni was suddenly aware of how much this was affecting her as well as she felt blood rush to her face. It was impossible for it not to, really; he was so beautifully helpless and compliant under her touch. 

It lasted only a few moments more, and then Solas’ eyes snapped open, wide and predatory.

Despite the dark and unfocused heat in his gaze, she saw him wrestle back some of his characteristic control, and soon enough his hand flew to grip her wrist, pushing and keeping her hand at a distance from his face.

“Don’t.” Solas commanded in a strained voice, through laboured breaths. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” He tried to warn, but under all the bite there was something like a plea.

For some reason, his words only made her more reckless— angry because he still insisted on speaking to her as if she was a nothing but a dim child. “Why don’t you educate me, then?” She challenged, and didn’t try to fight the energy building under her skin as she stepped forwards, bringing them closer than they’ve ever been outside of combat, their arms trapped awkwardly between their chests. 

He hissed a curse as more energy flew from her skin to his and Arianni felt his hold tighten painfully on her hand. She ignored it and focused instead on bringing her right hand against the planes of his stomach, relishing the heat of him she could feel through the thin fabric of his shirt. He let out another hiss in response, and loosened his grip enough for her to slip her trapped arm up his shoulder to sneak her fingers under his collar, to stroke around his collarbone and the skin of his neck.

Her own breath caught in her throat as Solas let out a rather loud moan, and he blinked hard to stop his eyes from rolling in the back of his head.

“Well-” She said, breathlessly. “- will you tell me? Or must I find out myself?” She made eye contact and held herself still, neither pulling away or pressing closer, letting the mage know that he only needed to answer her questions and she would back off.

If the insistent shape she could feel pressed against her hip was anything to go by, she was positive that pain was not what he was experiencing right then, but she’d promised herself she’d offer him a way out if he wanted it, so offer she did.

When he did nothing but stare down at her through dark eyes and parted lips, need and desperation and hunger so clearly evident on his face, Arianni bit down on her bottom lip and slowly curled one hand—the one with the Mark— at the nape of his head. She pushed the other one up his firm chest, so she could almost feel his fast heartbeat drumming under her fingers.

“Tell me if this is painful.” She breathed out softly —almost reassuringly— against his cheek as she pushed herself fully against him, and for a moment she thought she saw a glint of amusement shine through the storm in his eyes.

To erase it, she pulled his head down with careful force and a burst of green sparks, and clashed their mouths together.

When he gasped into the kiss and made a positively decadent sound from the back of his throat, she tilted his head to deepen the kiss and licked into his mouth. It was all she could do not to smile against his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hey guys, I am back! Thanks **so** much for all the lovely comments you left for chapter 7, they really pushed me to try to finish this as soon as possible. _
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _It only took me about 10 day. To be honest, I was expecting it to be much longer. I think I've just had some of the longest days of my life since last Wed._
> 
>  
> 
> _But enough about me: here is a new, fresh chapter. Basically 2200 words (which is, wow, longest one yet, right?) of smut._
> 
>  
> 
> _Enjoy!_

Arianni savoured the taste of him and traced the sharp points of his canines with her tongue, delighting in the way his whole body trembled against hers at the gesture. Her left hands kneaded the back of his head and traced fingers up and down the nape of his neck, and their mouths parted as he gasped in respond.

Her right hand pushed its way under his shirt and started tracing winding patterns into the skin of his abdomen, stopping just shy of the line of his breeches. Arianni felt the muscles in his stomach jump under her touch and watched his neck frantically work to swallow. The Inquisitor found it quite comical how he was so much taller than she was, his mouth brushing against her forehead as they faced each other, yet his hands gripped her shoulders as if it was the one thing holding him up. And in that moment, it could well be the case. 

That time, it was impossible to stop her lips from curving into a smile. She gazed down briefly at the proof of his arousal visible through the tight, thin fabric of the mage's breeches and felt a pleasant thrill go down her spine. 

"Bed." Arianni mouthed against his skin as she started moving them backwards. As much as she enjoyed the way his knees trembled whenever she pressed her fingers just hard enough into his skin, she didn't want to risk them giving up on them in the middle of the room. 

His breath was hot on her skin and the Inquisitor shifted her head to place a soft kiss against his graceful jaw before she pulled herself away, finding satisfaction in the desperate sound of protest that left his mouth as she detangled herself from him, taking a step back and bringing her hands back to her side with her.

"On the bed, now." Arianni managed to sound more in control than she felt, and made note of the shiver that went down Solas's back in response to her tone. 

Despite the heated moments they've just shared, she was still slightly surprised when the mage, instead of bolting to the door, followed her instruction and moved the rest of the short distance to the bed, watching her as he lowered himself to the edge of it. Soon, though, her relief was swallowed by the desire to continue what they've been doing, and the woman moved purposely to stand in between his parted knees. 

She did not, though, join him on the bed straight away.

Arianni looked down her nose at him, allowed herself a moment to admire the sight of him with his skin flushed and need in his eyes, heavy pants going past his slightly parted lips. Before he could truly catch his breath, though, her hands started moving again, her fingers making quick work of the buttons of her formal shirt, surprisingly steady for how flustered the woman herself had gotten. 

She let the piece of clothing fall soundlessly to the floor, the rustle of fabric lost in the sound of her heart beating in her ears, and Solas' hands finally — _finally_ — came up to touch her skin. Clever fingers curled around her hips and started moving up, grazing against her ribs and the underside of her still bound breasts. 

His mouth truly was a piece of art, she thought as she moved to straddle him on the bed and clashed her mouth down on his, so full and pink and kissable. 

Her fingers curled around his neck and Solas shuddered underneath her, hips pressing up instinctively, large hands cupping her breasts with more care than she expected him to be capable of in his wound-up state. She touched their foreheads together and spoke his name in a breathless sigh as she started grinding down on him. She could feel the heat of his pressing arousal even through their trousers, the fabric creating wonderful friction, but it was not enough. She wanted to feel skin. She needed to feel skin.

"Up the bed and on you back." She instructed softly as she lifted her weight off him, then gave his chest a small push. Solas allowed himself to fall backwards without protest and moved so his legs were no longer hanging off the edge of the bed, and Arianni rewarded him with a wolfish smile. Without wasting a moment, she dragged his shirt up his body and tossed it aside, with less patience than she did her own. The mage arched his body off the bed to help her, and Arianni's breath caught in her throat as she took in all the newly revealed skin.

She could see everything so clearly in the bright afternoon light, from the sweat that had started to form on his forehead to the way every muscle moved and tensed under his skin, and the Inquisitor was suddenly very appreciative of the fact that she'd decided to invite him up to her room during the day.

Creators, he was beautiful, and the desire to touch him became an almost physical ache. She placed both hands flat on his chest, lightly scratching at his skin, and he buckled underneath her in response, eyes snapping shut as he groaned lowly from the back of his throat.

His skin was hot, so very hot, and his whole body seemed to hum with tension and anticipation as she moved her hands up and down his chest, his shoulders, his arms. She paid careful attention to every sound he made and what had caused it, and noted with some amusement that he seemed to be ticklish just under his ribs, but only on the left side.

His hips pressed up against her heat again when she pressed the hand with the Anchor against his lower stomach, and the Inquisitor moaned at the friction, feeling herself already wet inside her smalls. Solas' head lifted from the bed and she could tell he was keeping himself from reaching for her and crushing their bodies and lips together, and the realisation of how much refrain he was exhibiting so that Arianni could be in control only made her wetter.

The Inquisitor bent at the waist to press a messy, heated kiss to the mage's reddened lips, and then slipped back down his body, stopping when she was straddling his thighs.

He hissed and inhaled sharply through his nose when her right hand finally moved to touch his hardened member through his clothes, ancient elvish falling off his lips in unintelligible mumbles. She bit down softly on her lower lip in order to keep the smile that threatened to take over her features in check. 

He was huge, or at least he felt huge in her hand, and so incredibly solid and warm. Solas groaned loudly when she pressed her hand firmly around him, and squeezed lightly. His head fell back and pressed down into the mattress, his spine arching slightly as his legs tensed and his whole body straightened, the soles of his feet no longer on the bed. 

" _Oh, Arlathan…_ " She heard him groan as she brought her other hand, this time the one with the Mark, down as well. Even though she was not touching bare skin yet, Solas still reacted visibly when she pressed the magic in her arm close to his sex. He seemed to pulse and grow even larger under her palm, and the noise that tore its way from his mouth sounded almost pained— a choked, desperate, keening, sound. He looked so undone, so wanting. 

It made her mouth go dry, and her thighs instinctively tried to press closer together, just as desperate for contact as he looked. "Please." He mouthed in elvish, and Arianni ignored the way her hands were shaking with lust and started pulling at the hem of his breeches. He lifted his lower body to help her get them off, which only brought them closer, the hardened peaks of her still bound breasts scrapping lightly against his lower abdomen and making the both of them shiver. 

_Creators_ , she thought with a groan, and tugged his breeches down with more force than necessary. He made no complain though, and she imagined he was as relieved to be out of the piece of clothing as she was eager to finally be able to touch him properly.

He looked just as big naked as he did clothed, and Arianni swallowed heavily as she took in the sight of him: Solas, naked and panting on her bed. If she could have, she would have had a painting commissioned of that exact moment, to keep the image with her for posterity.

"Creators, you're big." She told him as she caressed the skin from his knees to his inner thighs, before she wrapped her hands around him loosely.

Sparks flew out the fingers of her left hand and Solas screamed.

Howled, nearly. His voice almost immediately breaking into a loud, growling moan. He felt smooth and hot between her fingers and she tightened her grip tentatively around him. Arianni heard his breath catch and felt his thighs shake, and watched with lust and fascination as he trashed against the bed, hands clawing at the covers.

More elvish fell from his lips and she recognised the odd curse word and the word _'please'_. The woman bit down on her lower lip to keep her own moans and whimpers quiet, added speed to the strokes of her hands on his member, and drew in a sharp breath when Solas' gaze snapped up to meet hers.

"Arianni." Her name rolled off his tongue like something sinful, like something hallow. He held her gaze until she switched to using mainly her left hand, and another burst of green magic made his eyes shut under the upsurge of pleasure. 

She knew she should stop. It was clear that Solas would not last long if she continued to touch him like that, but the sight of him as she worked him with her hands was too enticing to pass on.

Without much thought, she shifted so she could lean down and bring her mouth to taste as well. She brought her lips to place a quick kiss to the darkened tip, first, and then she let her tongue dart out to taste the salt on his skin. His hips buckled up again but she held him down with her strong legs, made use of her hands and mouth until the elvish he spoke no longer sounded like words.

"Arianni…" He said, over and over as he pressed the side of his face against the bed, as if it would anchor him. She felt he was close and pulled her head away, slowing down the up and down movements of her hand in order to prolong the inevitable. 

She must have underestimated the power of the Anchor, though, because all even with this new, slower rhythm, it took only a few more strokes before he came hard and hot all over her stomach. It was sudden and messy and the expression on his face as he climaxed was enough to remind the Inquisitor just how wet she was.

Arianni felt a small measure of disappointment as she realised that she'd likely need to settle for fingers now, with Solas spent ( _But did it have to be her own? Would Solas be willing to help her with that even after he'd taken his own pleasure?_ ). She pushed the feeling down as she took in the mage's trembling body, and discarded it completely as she realised just how much the sight of Solas trashing in pleasure under her hands was worth having to take care of herself, if it came to it.

Arianni placed a smile firmly on her lips and leaned over to press one last kiss softly to his jaw as he tried to catch his breath, before lifting herself off him on slightly unsteady legs and moving to grab a cloth from her washing basin to clean up. She wiped herself quickly, grabbed a second cloth for Solas, and returned to the bed.

He was still lying where she'd left him on the mattress, breathing fast and heavy and one arm draped over his eyes.

She climbed back into the bed and stopped kneeling by his side, looking down at him. 

While he came down from his high, she carefully cleaned him up with the cloth she'd just brought. Grazed his skin with quick, nimble fingers and tried to ignore the uncomfortable heat between her still clothed legs.

Arianni heard his breathing change, but it did not seem like he was quite back to normal yet. If anything, it sounded as if-

 _"Tel'venavis."_ He breathed out, as her hand came a bit to close caressing instead of just helping him clean up; she knew enough elvish to realise what he wanted, so she pressed on, pressed her palm more fully to his skin until sparks flew out of her hand again. 

She felt him stir and twitch as she did so— all of him— and realised that she had truly underestimated the Anchor's powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tel'venavis= Don't stop. (Sort of. Elvish is hard.)
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> _Please let me know if I messed anything up. I didn't really have the time to properly check this chapter for mistakes._
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> _Also, reading your own smut always feels awkward and wrong. I never know if I manage to make it sound hot or weird._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I'm alive!**
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> _Right, so, it's been a while. Sorry about that. It's been some very busy months for me._ It was kind of horrific.  
>  _I'm back now, though, and hopefully there won't be such a long gap between this update and the next (there's not that much left of this story anyway, so...)._
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> _Anyway, here is another aprox. 2000 words of pure smut. Enjoy...?_

Arianni's older sister had been born with magic.

She had set fire to Arianni's hair twice by the time she was eight seasons old, and she was named First to the Keeper by the time she was ten. She could heal wounds and move the earth and she used to put up the most beautiful shows of lights and colours on the walls of their tent at night.

Arianni had grown up surrounded by magic and listening with rapt fascination as her sister spoke about the Fade as if it were her second home. But no matter her fascination with magic, and no matter how much her sister or Solas shared glimpses of the world beyond the Veil with her, magic was foreign to Arianni, not something she had the tools to ever truly comprehend. Magic was like song, after all. It was wild and mysterious and beautiful in a way that needed to be felt before it could be understood. 

As the Inquisitor trailed her fingers on Solas' skin, and watched him tremble, she never wished more feverishly that she'd been born a mage. She wanted to know how one simple touch could make him breathe so heavily, and look so hungry. She wanted to be able to control the energy that seemed to be able to bring him such pleasure. She wanted to know for certain when it was her touch or the Mark that made him gasp her name. 

She could dully feel each discharge of magical energy going through her arm, almost like a second heartbeat, and Arianni bit down on her bottom lip as her thoughts flew to the way she would use the Anchor in battle, and how if she focused just so…

" _Spirits!_ " Solas hissed through his teeth as she gave the Anchor a tentative tug, in time with the rhythm of her hands. The dazed look on his face was exquisite, so Arianni did it again, pushing some of the Anchor's energy into the palm of her hand as she squeezed just a bit harder and sped up the pace of her strokes, and—

"Oh." She said, eye going wide and cheeks getting just a shade darker as Solas came again, and she swallowed hard at the sight before her. His eyes were closed tight, his whole body tense and taut like a bowstring, those full lips parted and swollen from her kisses as his back bowed off her bed and further into her touch. 

She didn't let go of him, either. Cupping him in an attempt to minimise the mess he was making. 

He let out something like a whimper from the back of his throat and Arianni couldn't help the way her legs pressed together desperately in response.

For a long moment, the room was filled only with the sound of their loud, out-of-synch breathing, both of them rendered speechless by what just happened.

"Sorry…" She found herself saying, rather awkwardly, once she got over her shock. "I didn't— I mean…" She busied herself with moving to grab the cloth she'd used earlier, swallowing thickly and willing her cheeks to stop feeling so hot.

Solas made a sound between a growl and a groan, which only made Arianni's mouth go even drier than it already was, and startled her into looking down at him again.

His pupils had dilated so much his eyes looked black, except for a sliver of silver around the edges, and they seemed to be focused solely on her heaving chest. She was made instantly, intensely, aware of how the fabric of her chest bindings did nothing to hide the way her nipples had hardened as a result of their recent activities.

Arianni felt hot, her skin over-heated and hyper-sensitive, and when Solas managed to bring one hand up to cup her left breast through the rough cotton it was her turn to whimper. 

"How are you still dressed?" He asked, his voice rough and out of breath, and made a frustrated noise when he couldn't quite lift himself in a sitting position. Arianni shivered, eyes going a bit wider as she realised what he was implying —and what he was implying was that he was not planning on stopping what they were doing any time soon—, and smiled.

"I got distracted." She admitted, bringing her hands more confidently down to his chest again.

"Hnn." He articulated, and Arianni couldn't help but watch in fascination as he started to get hard again. " _Arianni…_ " He growled out her name, a hint of a warning behind it, and the woman chuckled softly and moved back on the bed slightly. She tugged the fabric around her chest over her head in one easy movement, and started undoing the buttons of her trousers next.

Solas recovered enough in the time it took her to finish with that to lift himself on his elbows and latch his mouth around one breast, making her breath catch in her throat.

"Oh." She exhaled as he circled her nipple with his hot tongue. "That's… _Oh_." She managed the get the last button undone despite the small tremor in her fingers, but she didn't have the chance to start pulling the trousers down before Solas lifted himself fully into a sitting position and pulled her into his chest. His fingers danced on her skin, mouth moving up and placing kisses on her neck, nibbling at her pulse, making her legs feel weak.

He trailed his palm down her back and under her clothes, cupping the curves of her backside, the bare skin of her arse. 

"Ghh, get me out of those." She demanded with more force than she might have, were she not so incredibly wet and aching, and pressed herself harder into his lap.

Solas grunted his agreement and started pushing her trousers and underthings down her legs. Arianni helped by lifting herself briefly off his lap, and sighed in relief once they managed to get her as naked as he was. 

Bare skin met bare skin and it felt right. It felt like everything she ever wanted. It felt like warmth and belonging.

It felt like coming home. 

When she kissed him next — _chests pressed firmly together, bringing their thrumming hearts as close as they could be; bathed in afternoon light and sweat and skin flushed with desire_ — it was a kiss more honest than she'd ever shared, almost overwhelming in its intensity and raw need.

Her fingers trembled against his cheek and Arianni allowed herself to get lost in the heat of Solas' tongue in her mouth. When he moved them further back on the bed and turned them so that it was her turn to lay spread out on the mattress, she allowed it with no protest.

The kiss ended and she opened her eyes to the sight of Solas, his arms around her, his scent on her skin and his gaze studying her flushed face. 

She felt the Anchor get restless as he gently moved her hands away from the planes of his face and pushed them to rest on the bed, over her head and away from his skin. He leaned down, scattered open-mouthed kisses over the length of her neck, and explained before she could ask: "I want to make this last." he said, as he shifted his body even closer to hers, and Arianni whimpered lowly as his straining member came to rest against her belly, hot and ready. "That won't happen if you keep touching me with the Mark."

The Inquisitor inhaled sharply in understanding, the air catching in her throat when Solas brought one hand down to her sex, finally touching her where she needed to be touched, spreading her with his long fingers. 

She might have jolted away in surprise, but his other hand held her in place by the hips. "I cannot think when you put your hands on me." He confessed against the side of her neck at the same time as he slid one finger inside her. Then, finding how wet and ready she was for him, he added a second.

She gasped his name and pressed her wrists hard against the bed, forcing herself to keep them where they were. "There is nothing but electricity and heat and the shape of your lips." The mage whispered hotly. He kissed the lobe of her ear, moving down her neck, and his fingers started to move inside her, finally. He somehow managed to touch places no lover ever had before, and all the air left in her lungs turned into moans; begging and demands for more and gasps of his name. 

"Please, oh, _please_ —" She cried out when his mouth covered the peak of one of her breasts again. Solas manoeuvred both his knees in the space between her legs and she moved to accommodate him on instinct, spreading her legs for him easily. He rewarded her by moving the hand still on her hip to the breast he was not already stimulating with his mouth. All the while, his other hand kept the steady, maddeningly slow, pace as two fingers moved in and out, and his thumb circled around her clit, sending pleasure in relentless waves through her body; it was not long before Arianni found herself clawing at the sheets on top of her head to keep herself from arching off the bed.

"More… _More, please_ , Sola—" Her voice cut off when he listened to her pleas; he added one more finger, stretching her perfectly, and moved his hand faster, applying just the right amount of pressure as he did so.

It was suddenly impossible to stay still, and she twisted her fingers harder into the covers of her bed, every muscle in her body taut and ready to snap. 

Her hips started moving almost frantically, chasing the movement of his fingers, desperate for release already. Desperate since the moment she'd first seen him naked.

"Solas…please— _Solas_ , please! _Oh_ …" Arianni repeated, almost like a prayer, as the tension in her body grew virtually unbearable. She wasn't even sure if he could hear her, if he could understand anything out of the jumbled mess of sound getting past her lips, but his mouth let go of her breast with an obscene, wet, noise and he curled his fingers just so —which made her wail in a way she would have been embarrassed with in any other situation—, and then: "Come for me, _vhenan_." Solas said, just before he brought his lips back up for a fierce kiss.

And she did.

Her inner walls clamped down hard on Solas' fingers as she climaxed, the tension bursting open and leaving the most wonderful pleasure behind. It came in waves, wonderful tremors that overwhelmed her in the best possible way, and she rode them out with his name on her lips.

"Solas…" She gasped into their kiss. "Solas…" She said again, as she buried her face against his neck and waited for the world to stop spinning. "Solas..." Again and again; there was only his name and the warm pleasure, and the rest of the world had faded from thought. She couldn't tell for sure, but she thought she felt him smile against her skin when he pressed his lips against her forehead.

She allowed herself a moment of indulgence, basking in the sensation of calmness and fulfillment coursing through her body. Solas traced the contours of her body as she came down from her high. His fingertips brushed against her side, not with the frenzied rush of a greedy lover, but with the light touch of an artist getting to know a piece of art, and that was what made her shiver more than the aftershocks of her recent orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Right, so... that was it._
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> _Quick question, do you guys think I'm going overboard with the smut? I've never actually written such a long lemon as this one is shaping out to be (and next chapter is likely going to be just more smut too)._
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> _Anyway, thank you all for reading and thank you so much for all the comments and kudos! You are amazing (especially since you are putting up with me and my horrible tendency to go radio silent for weeks and weeks)!_
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>  _(Also, not much proofreading went into this chapter, please be kind and let me know if you spot a mistake.)_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _First of all..._
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> _Wow, I cannot believe how many of you actually take the time to read through my author notes! **You guys rock!** Also, thank you all so much for the comments and support! They mean the world to me!_
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> _Now, on with the story! I hope this chapter isn't too much of a let-down after all that build-up._
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> _Enjoy!_

A small jolt of discomfort reminded Arianni that her hands were still held in an awkward position over her head, and shook her out of her pleasant haze.

There was no ignoring the sensation once she noticed it, and her fingers twitched as she rolled her shoulders back to relieve some of the ache.

" _Abelas._ " Solas' breath brushed against her skin as he apologised, having noticed her predicament. "That must be uncomfortable."

Arianni greedily watched the way his muscle shifted under his skin as Solas moved to put a bit of distance between them, just enough for her to be able to move her arms back to her side without the risk of touching his skin. The mage looked down at her, still on top of her and with her legs wrapped loosely around his hips, and Arianni tried not to feel too self-conscious at the intense look in his eyes.

"What now?" She asked as soon as she managed to swallow down her nerves and regain her breath, though her heart had not stopped beating wildly in her chest, and part of her wondered if it ever would.

Solas brought one hand back to her side and allowed it to trail up until it cupped one breast. "Do you wish to stop?"

"No, spirits, no-" The rest of her sentence was cut short as he pressed his mouth to hers, and Arianni had to fight hard against the desire to bring her hands up and pull his body closer to hers. _That_ … was going to be a problem.

"Can I touch you again, please?" She begged in a rushed whisper when they pulled apart, and she was certain that she would have flushed with embarrassment had she not been so drunk on the taste of Solas' kisses. Solas' lips curled in a smile, his expressive eyes aglow with quiet affection and amusement, and Arianni felt her heartbeat sped up further at the way he looked at her, like he could get drunk on the sight of her alone— and wouldn't it be fair, when she was so drunk on him already?

"I would like nothing more." He spoke, with a hint of raw want that made Arianni curl her toes into the bedcovers. "But it might not be wise."

The Inquisitor bit down on her lower lip and furrowed her brows delicately in disappointment, which only seemed to make the amusement in Solas' gaze grow.

He placed another kiss to her mouth, quick and warm, and Arianni fought down her confusion when she felt him pull away from her entirely, immediately after.

"Give me a moment." The mage instructed, as he got off the bed and moved to stand by the edge of the bed. Arianni pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at him questioningly, until she realised what it was that he was doing.

Her skin always seemed to prickle when Solas used his magic. It had been one of the things she'd had to get used to since they started fighting side by side; more so than Dorian's or Vivienne's magic, Arianni's skin seemed to heat up whenever Solas would cast a spell. She'd always assumed it was just something that happened, one of those many magical idiosyncrasies mages talked about, yet now she couldn't help but wonder if it also had something to do with the fact that Arianni was in possession of the Anchor.

Pulling herself away from her thoughts, while making a note to inquire more about the strange connection that Solas seemed to share with the Anchor in the future, the Inquisitor focused on following Solas movements as he, by the looks of it, attempted to cast a spell without his staff.

The specific movements of his arms meant little to Arianni, yet the way his muscles and limbs moved with effortless, practiced grace was more than enough to keep her eyes on the exceptional example of an elf in front of her.

His eyes were closed in concentration as he finished casting, and magic made his skin glow; he was gloriously naked and perfect in every way, and the magic wrapping around his skin only made him look more otherworldly. It was a sight that made Arianni's mouth go dry and she was sure that, had she stumbled over him like that in any of her expeditions in the wildness while hunting for her clan, she would have mistaken him for an elven God.

When Solas opened his eyes, magic made the silver around his pupils glow even as the rest of the faint light that had surrounded him faded away. He smiled, that soft, honest, smile that made her tremble without the need for touch, and Arianni swallowed thickly and forced herself to speak. "Was that a warding spell?" She asked.

Solas seemed pleased with her question, and he smiled larger as he climbed back onto the bed. "Indeed." He came to rest between her parted legs and Arianni embraced the return of his warmth and weight on top of her, readily lowering herself back onto the covers.

"This ward should, at least to some extent, repel the Anchor's magic." Solas explained as he touched their foreheads together, and Arianni felt a different type of warmth settle in her belly at the gesture, the sort that had nothing to do with lust— and, ah, it was _unfair_ how hopelessly smitten she was with this man. "Enough, I hope, for you to be able to touch me without ending things early." His smile turned just a bit wicked, and Arianni had to bite down on her own lip to avoid making a no-doubt shamefully needy sound.

Taking a deep breath, the woman tentatively brought her fingers close to his skin, hovering just shy of touching. She looked at Solas one last time, her question easy to read on her face. 

"Go ahead." He reassured her in a quiet voice, lips brushing teasingly against hers as he spoke. "Touch me as much as you please."

So she did. 

His skin was warm, soft, flawless, and she had the time to appreciate it now that she was not in a mad, lustful, haze anymore. He had just a few scars, none of them very noticeable; Arianni had to wonder if that was because he was such a proficient healer, or if he was simply proficient at staying out of trouble. Somehow, she doubted it was the latter. 

Solas smiled patiently down at her as she traced one scar that started just under his collarbone; it was barely the length of her thumb, faded and straight and thin, and Arianni wondered where he'd gotten it from. She promised herself to ask about it later, and allowed her hand to moved lower. She stopped to drag her fingers over the contours of his chest next; he made a small sound when she rolled his nipples between her fingers, but kept still and simply allowed her to explore as she wished. 

His patience truly was extraordinary, the woman though, and while she found it incredibly sweet that Solas was being so amiable about her request to touch him, Arianni felt it was about time they moved things along. 

After all, her fingers digging in Solas' shoulders while he moved inside her would still count as _touching_ , would it not?

The way Solas' breath hitched when she wrapped her fingers around his sex made Arianni lick her lips. "I want you." She said, boldly making eye contact, and she felt him twitch in her hand. "Now."

He groaned something that Arianni took as agreement, and both of them shuddered when she guided him to her core. He slid in easily, despite the effort he made to go slow; she was more than ready for him, and had been so for a while. 

Needy sounds left her throat on their own accord. "Now, please, _please_ -" He was only half-way in and the stretch was exquisite and she wanted _more_.

"Spirits, _Arianni…_ " He gasped against her neck as he entered her fully, and the sound that made its way out of Arianni's mouth didn't even sound human anymore. She had known he was big and she had expected it would be different from her previous lovers, but she had never thought being so full could be so satisfying. It was a snug fit, the best kind of snug. Arianni instinctively wrapped her legs around Solas' hips again, to keep him in place. The change of position only made their hips roll together, only made him go deeper than she thought was possible, and Arianni's toes curled into the air. Breathing suddenly became a very difficult thing.

Solas' response was another groan, deep and guttural and honestly one of the best noises Arianni had ever heard, and then he braced himself better on top of her, hands pressing into the bed on both sides of her head, and he lowered his mouth to kiss her. 

Her hands roamed his body with renewed urgency, and his tongue pushed past her lips and into her mouth. Arianni felt pleasure run through her like electricity when Solas finally started to move, pulling away only to push right back in. She moaned into the kiss and dug her nails into Solas' back harder than she'd meant, not that he seemed to mind. He repeated the motion, the second time faster than before, less clumsy, as he started to search for a rhythm that worked best.

The kiss ended just as he slammed back into her the third time, what little breath Arianni had left in her lungs turning into a gasp, and her head pressed into the mattress as her body arched off the bed in an attempt to get even closer to the mage. 

Solas muttered something in elvish she could not understand as he shifted his weight back, knees digging into the bed as he pressed their chests together and brought his mouth to her neck. Arianni welcomed the closeness, her lips curling in approvingly when Solas placed his right hand flat on her lower back, keeping her arched into him.

The motion of his hips picked up speed and strengths with every thrust, and Arianni followed his lead as best as she could, staring at the hypnotising movement of his shoulders from behind half-lid eyes and realising she would never be able to look at them again without thinking of this exact moment.

Solas leaned down further on one knee and used the hand he had on her back to angle her better for him to thrust down, and suddenly he was hitting a spot inside her that made her see stars. 

"Spirits…" She moaned, eyes closing on their own accord, head falling back as she gave a shuddery breath. "Oh, _gods_ \- oh, oh, ahh…" Solas must have noticed her reaction, because suddenly he was hitting that same spot over and over again with merciless precision. Much to her disbelief, Arianni felt her inner walls flutter, letting her know she was already close to another orgasm.

The mage decided to use that moment to bring one hand, the one not on her back, up. He cupped her right breast warmly, rolled one nipple between thumb and index finger, and the extra attention all it took for Arianni to feel the tension in her body burst open as she clamped down around his length hard.

Solas felt it too, if the groan he muffled by burying his head against her shoulder was any indication. Still, he did not stop moving, prolonging her orgasm and making her cry out his name. 

It was… more than she'd expected, the Inquisitor having never peaked twice in a night before, and Arianni had to wonder if she'd been having sex wrong her whole life.

Arianni swallowed hard and her fingers did end up digging into Solas' back as she clung to him for dear life. She was just starting to regain her breath when he kissed her again. She felt her lungs burn, but she found she didn't mind as much as she might have in any other situation.

He pulled his mouth away just as he slammed back down into her, and they were both panting when she opened her eyes to meet his gaze, her vision coming into focus slowly as he allowed her no time to bash or recover after her second orgasm.

"You look beautiful when you fall apart in my arms." He told her, but Arianni found it hard to form words when her body was still so overwhelmed.

He kissed down her neck and sucked on one breast lightly, never staying in one place for long, the pace of his hips steady until he felt her recover enough to start moving in time with him.

She moaned his name so often she was sure all of Skyhold knew what she was doing at the moment, yet she didn't care, and when Solas did a particularly clever thing with his tongue, she surprised herself as she felt yet another orgasm starting to build up. 

" _Solas, oh, gods-_ " She wasn't sure what she was trying to say but he must have got it, because he brought his head up to kiss her senseless and one hand moved to play with her breasts.

His hips started to snap against hers with enough force that Arianni's legs dislodged themselves from around his middle. She couldn't find it in herself to try and pull her legs up again, not in the state of mind to care that she must have made such a lewd picture with her legs spread wide like that. She moved her hips to chase Solas' body, she clenched around him at every thrust, trying to keep him in.

The hand playing with her chest moved lower, pressing into her ribs and trailing down her body until it reached the place where they joined, and Arianni whimpered when Solas started toying with her clit.

"I never knew it could feel so real." Solas spoke as he pulled away from her neck to breath, so low Arianni barely caught it. "You change everything." He said, just as quiet, and if Arianni's heart wasn't already in her throat, it would have certainly been after hearing the awe in his voice.

She felt Solas slow down, but it did nothing to lessen the intensity of their love-making, compensating for speed through the sheer resolve of his movements.

Their eyes met and it was like the room became charged with electricity, there was static in the air and his eyes still glowed silver at the edges. She felt the magic of the Anchor move erratically under her skin and saw green sparks escape from under her skin as they pushed each other over the edge. 

It was a sudden fall, like the wold had been frozen and time had rushed back into action at a merciless pace. She came with a broken cry, her breath catching half-way through, and her climax triggered his.

Solas was quieter, but his hands tightened around her sides with bruising strength, and she felt his legs buckle, his weight crushing her for a moment before he managed to shift most of it into his elbows. 

Solas trailed a few more kisses down the length of her neck and his hot breath on her damp skin made her shiver when he pulled away to bury his nose into the wisps of hair behind her ear.

Her legs were open and limp, and she felt his seed drip down her thighs. 

Arianni had never been so open, she had never felt so vulnerable, and yet she had never felt more safe, and it scared her a little.

The next moment, he kissed her again, and the fear was quickly outweighed by how much she wanted him still, in every way she could have him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ok, so that was it for now. There should be one more chapter and we should be done (I already have the first 500 words written down for that one, and guess what: It's **smut**. Damn, I don't know if I'm impressed or worried with myself). _
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> _I might be tempted to do an epilogue sort of thing (I was thinking about the Trasspaser meeting being a bit more interesting) for this story, simply because the concept for it has been so fun to write about so far, but we'll see about that! Do let me know what you think, though!_
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> _Thank you all for reading!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So, long time no see. (Sorry, sorry, sorry.)_
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> _Things have been...busy, and I really do feel awful for taking so long to get to this story, especially since there was only so little left to write. But, I'm back and here is the final chapter._
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> _I hope you approve, and I hope you've enjoyed this story as much as enjoyed writing it!_
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> _**You're all amazing!** ___

He pulled out carefully and moved them so they were both on their side, facing each other. Arianni brought the palm of her hand to his cheek. His eyes closed instinctively and he leaned into the touch, and she was amazed at how much heat he was still radiating. 

They stayed like that for a while, until he spoke.

"Arianni…" His voice cracked slightly, and the woman furrowed her brows in concern when she heard his breathing speed up. 

"Oh." She mouthed, as she noticed her hand start to glow green again.

Solas exhaled jerkily and bit down on his bottom lip. There was tension around his eyes when he opened them to look at her. 

"…not enough. The ward is not strong enough."

"Oh." She repeated, though she didn't sound concerned anymore. It was bad, she knew it was wrong, he was tired and he probably wanted to rest, but-

His hands trembled when she trailed her fingers down his neck, and she suddenly wanted to see his face when he came again. Reason stood no chance under the weight of her want, and Arianni found herself wrapping her hand around his once-again erect member.

"No-" He hissed. "Wait, that's-" His voice broke into a moan, his breathing being reduced to pants in a matter of seconds. "Too much—too…oh, _Arlathan_ …"

Arianni did that thing when she pulled and pushed the Anchor's energies in time with the motions of her hand again, and Solas collapsed on his back, all kinds of sounds leaving his beautiful lips. Arianni propped herself on one elbow, adjusting her reach but never slowing down.

"This is the last time, I promise." She said, in a voice so breathy and heated she had a hard time recognising it as her own. 

"Please." He said in elvish. "Oh, creators, oh—" Solas pressed the side of his face into the covers, and his heels dug hard into the mattress as he whimpered. 

She bent her head to nibble at the tip of his ear, to press kisses on his jaw and on his throat.

"Too…much. Arianni, please, _please_ -"

Arianni surprised herself with how much she enjoyed his begging. "Again." She whispered near his ear. "Come now, Solas. Now."

He made that sound again, groaning loudly into her covers, and Arianni watched with satisfaction as his hips lifted off the bed and he pulsed in her hand, coming again, like she asked.

She kept her promise, letting go of him before the magic could start to affect him again and lowering herself on her back by his side. 

They laid there for a while, catching their breath.

"Wow." Arianni said, breaking the silence. "This thing is…something." Her fingers flexed as she remembered the surge of magic and the way he felt in her hand.

"Indeed."

There was a pause. Then: "We'll be doing this again in the future, yes?"

"Oh, absolutely." 

. . . .

"What's up with the gloves?"

Varric quizzed, on their next expedition to the Emerald Graves, and it took Arianni a second to realise what he was asking.

"Oh. Nothing." The Inquisitor said, not looking back as she led the party back towards the Direstone Camp. "Just extra protection." Her fingers instinctively flexed inside her new, heavy, metal gloves.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Solas' subtle change in posture as he listened to the conversation.

"They don't seem your style." Varric continued to say, a knowing smile in his voice. "What happened to the leather?"

Arianni bit her lip and allowed her pace to stop to a halt, turning to face the dwarf. "Why do you care about my gloves, Varric?" She demanded, with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"Oh, nothing, Inquisitor." He said, but there was that that cunning, annoyingly intuitive, look in his eyes again, and she saw him glance at Solas briefly as he spoke. "Just thought it strange that you're wearing plate mail with your leather armour. They don't really go together, do they?"

"I never knew you were such a fashionista, dwarf." Cassandra chose the moment to intervene, raising one dark eyebrow as she came to a halt near the dwarf. "Not with what you're wearing."

The Inquisitor cracked a smile.

"Seeker,-" Varric brought his and up to his chest, planting an exaggerated hurt expression on his face. "-are you implying I have poor taste in clothes?"

Cassandra simply rolled her eyes at the man. "I am sure there is a practical reason for why the Inquisitor is wearing what she is wearing. Now come on, we're expected at the camp." The woman spoke up, as severe as ever, before she brought her hand back to the pommel of her sword and continued walking on.

Solas trailed after the Seeker with only a backwards glance.

Arianni's smile turned softer and she turned to follow, this time walking in time with Varric. The silence between them was comfortable and easy, but it did not last long.

"So, have you spoken with Dorian lately?"

"Dorian?" Arianni asked, tilting her head curiously towards the dwarf. "Sure. Why do you ask?"

"I did too." Varric smiled in a way that worried Arianni slightly. "He told me something interesting, actually. I was wondering if I could ask you about it."

After a moment of hesitation, Arianni nodded, watching the marksman with dim curiosity.

"Everyone know you and Chuckles have a thing going on for weeks now-" He started to say, and Arianni could already feel herself regretting letting the conversation happen. "- but is it true you can magic him into orgasm?"

When she did nothing but stare at him with wide eyes, Varric could not help a small smirk. "Apparently one brush of your hand and he'd done for, eh? Ain't magic funny." Varric said with that smile of his that told her he was vastly enjoying knowing something he shouldn't know.

For a moment, Arianni could do nothing but stare at the story-teller with a horrified expression. "Wh- what… I cannot even-"

"But he can, right?"

" _Varric!_ " Arianni admonished, horrified. Much to her chagrin, she could feel her face getting hot. She turned her face away, her eyes instinctively focusing on Solas' figure up ahead as she tried to compose herself. It was probably a bad idea, since Varric definitely noticed her looking. "I'm going to need to have a talk with Dorian about privacy…" She muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

Varric laughed quietly.

"Don't worry, Inquisitor. Your secret is safe with me." He placed his hand on his breast again, smiling widely, and Arianni quietly admitted defeat.

"Right, right." She mumbled.

"I have to wonder about the gloves, though…"

"Varric…"

"Are they good protection in the bedroom too?"

It was going to be a long trek to the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And that was it, people!_
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> _I've decided to go with a more open-ended kind of ending, and try to keep thing a bit more light-hearted. This story has already become much longer than what I first had in mind, but I hope you've enjoyed it._
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> _If you've made all the way here, (please, please) leave a comment! I really want to hear your thoughts! Also, as you might know, I am currently considering doing a short epilogue about the event taking place in the Trespasser DLC. What do you think?_
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> _Thank you for reading!_


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